No More What If
by Misty Windows
Summary: Life moves on. If only life moves on the way you like it.


Francis and Mary. I don't own anything.

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Time has passed. Flowers bloomed. Rivers flowed. Oceans rolled.

Life at the French court moved on. Everyone has moved on. Everyone has accepted that Sebastian will be the next King of France.

Mary has accepted. Her heart is open to love again.

Catherine has been locked in the tower, awaiting her beheading.

Everyone moved on.

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Trumpets sounded.

A messenger has arrived.

"Your majesty, the General Maurice has arrived."

"Ah, Maurice! Good to see you. Back from Rome? What brings you here?" King Henry called out from his perch at his throne. Next to him, sitting in Catherine's throne was Sebastian. Mary was by his side.

Maurice curtsied. "Your majesty, I bring you news-"

"From the Pope, I assume? Go on then." Henry was excited. He was going to get everything he wanted.

"I beg your pardon, your grace, but shouldn't Queen Catherine be here? The news involves her."

Annoyed, Henry summoned the guards to get Catherine. "Very well, get Catherine. Don't take her chains though."

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Even bedraggled and in chains, Queen Catherine was still the epitome of a regal monarch.

"What is the news, general? As you can see, I am not supposed to be talking to courtiers."

"Silence, Catherine!" Henry admonishes her. "Continue with the news, General Maurice."

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Maurice takes a deep breath, "The Pope, he won't give you an annulment. What God has joined together, let not man separate."

"NO!" Henry roared. Catherine laughed and rolled her eyes, "Oh yes!"

"But there's more news, your majesty."

"I don't want to hear it. Guards, seize him."

"But wait, your majesty. I'm not-"

"Guards, take him away from here. And put Catherine back into the tower."

"But- YOUR MAJESTY, THE DAUPHIN FRANCIS IS DEAD!"

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"WHAT?"

Everyone stopped. Catherine paled. Mary was already by General Maurice's side.

"You lie! Francis is not dead! He can't be dead!" Mary was shaking. "No, he couldn't be dead. Francis can't. He can't be. Catherine, you said, Nostradamus- he can't be dead. You liar! General, tell me, you're lying." shaking the general's left arm. She refused to believe Francis is dead.

"I'm so sorry, your majesty. He couldn't, even the Pope himself, couldn't saved the Dauphin." Maurice felt for the girl. He really did, but there's no bringing back the dead.

Mary was still denying it, mumbling to herself that Francis wasn't dead, shaking her head, tears flowing from her eyes. Her ladies were already circling around her, holding her up. Both were also tearing up.

"Tell me, tell us, what happened?" Catherine asked as calmly as possible, even with her tears. Even after her plots and Mary refusing to marry Francis, Nostradamus' prophecy still became true. Her Francis was dead.

"He, ahh, the Dauphin Francis, he was very brave, your grace. Until the end, he was a brave young man. One you should be proud of."

"Stop stalling! Tell me, what happened?"

"The Dauphin, he, ahh, you see, there was a robbery at the Pope's residence. The Pope, he said, Francis was staying there. Francis was hurting. Broken-heart. Spirit in chains. Said he wanted to give up his birthright. He was thinking of becoming a priest. He, ahh, the robber came in the night and took to the Pope's study."

"Francis was there, studying. He was pouring over books and doctrines. The Pope said Francis, he could have been a good priest, great even. And he, Francis, he never saw the robber."

"But they fought for awhile, everything was topsy-turvy, until the robber took a poker to his side which left him bleeding."

"He bled, but he still was holding on to the robber when help arrived. The robber was apprehended and turns out the robber was French. And a hired killer. And it was Francis, he was hired to kill."

"And that's why I am here. Queen Catherine, your majesty, you and your sons and daughters are in danger. There's a plot to kill everyone in your family. Starting with Francis. You have to leave now. There are snakes in your court. The Pope sent me to get you and you'll be under his care."

"The Pope has promised Francis to give you protection." reaching out to Catherine, giving her Francis' signet. A dauphin never lets go of his ring, unless he is truly dead. "You are under the Pope's protection now."

"What makes you think we'll believe you? You could be the one who plotted to kill my family?" Henry stood up, already holding a sword against Maurice's neck.

"Because may you strike me down, I am prepared, my soul is clean. Is yours, your majesty?"

"We'll leave with you." Catherine said while moving towards the hallway, towards her remaining sons and daughters. "Guards, go ahead and tell the nursemaids to prepare and pack our things. We'll leave tonight. And I want to speak to Nostradamus. Bring him to my chambers!"

"Catherine, can I join you? I mean, leave with you. I want to see Francis." Mary implored to Catherine. She still didn't believe Francis was dead. All her sacrifices, all her refusal, all for nothing. Francis still died. Maybe if she didn't give in to superstition, just believe in their love, they could have been married now. And Francis, sweet Francis, would still be alive.

"No. Whatever for, Mary? Francis is already dead." A tear dropped from Mary's eye.

Catherine closed her eyes. "Fine! Yes, you can come with us. But don't tell my children what has happened to their brother. I want them happy," Catherine's voice cracked. "Even for a little while."

"Catherine! You cannot leave! We still don't know who has plotted against us! What if-"

"There are no what ifs, Henry. You are the king. Uncover the plot yourself." Catherine left the throne room, the chains rattling against the floor.

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"Mary!" Bash tried to get Mary's attention. Mary and her ladies were moving towards their rooms, preparing to leave France.

Mary stopped walking and told her ladies to pack everything she had. Everything they had. If there was a plot against Francis' remaining siblings, she'd like to be there to protect them too. To her, its the only way she could honor Francis. To keep Francis alive.

"Bash-"

"You cannot leave Mary. I mean, you can, but let me go with you. I want to be there for you." He tried to hold her hands but Mary evaded his touch. As if, burned by it.

"I'm sorry, Bash. You can't be there for me, because you're not supposed to be the one to be there for me." Mary wiped her tears. "I'm sorry, I tried."

"You said your heart is open."

"Is that all you think about? Francis is dead? And all you could think about is that?"

"I tried. I tried to let you in. And I lost Francis." More tears flowed. "I thought I was prepared. That I could go on and live without Francis. I accepted that I will never see Francis again. Never to hear his voice. Never to feel his touch. All for him, all to save Francis, from death."

"Mary-"

"Francis is dead. And I don't know what to do. Everything I did was for him to be safe. I thought I could live without him. And now, he's dead. Francis is dead!"

"But it isn't your fault!"

"Isn't it?" turning her back from him. "If Francis and I got married then. He wouldn't be leaving the castle. Wouldn't be leaving France. He wouldn't be leaving me."

"But Mary, I'm here. You accepted my proposal. We are going to get married."

Looking at him sideways, "I'm sorry, Bash. I can't marry you anymore. Even for my country. Even for the alliance. Even for you."

"We can force the hand of Rome. I will go with you to Rome."

"No. Even then, I will not marry you."

Turning Mary towards him, to look her in the eyes, "Mary-"

"My heart is dead, Bash! Francis is - was my heart. He's dead! I'm dead inside. I feel nothing!"

Shaking away from Bash, she fled the hallways, crying her grief. And there was nothing he could do.

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Mary tried to composed herself, but as she passed by Francis' rooms, she broke down and fell against his door. Catherine saw her there, crying against the door and mumbling whys and hows.

"Mary, stop."

"Catherine, you said, he won't be harm. He'll be safe. He'll live a long life!" Mary turned murderous and back hands Catherine. "Francis-"

Catherine hugged her. She didn't even retaliate. "Why, Catherine? Why, is Francis dead? You said, you said, Nostradamus said - I'll kill him. I'll kill Nostradamus, he lied. Francis can't be dead! I can't-"

Catherine just hugged her tighter, muffling her words and sobs.

And they stood there, hugging each other, in front of Francis' rooms, wallowing in grief, for the one man they would have gone to hell for.

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General Maurice was waiting for them, talking to King Henry and Bash, a little ways from the road.

"You'll protect them with your life?"

"Your majesty, yes, I will."

"You haven't been forthcoming about the plot against my family. You can talk freely now."

Maurice look at Bash. "How well do you know your son, your majesty?"

"Bash? He's the son you could ever hope for."

"So you know about his pagan roots then. The French assassin was pagan. You know anything about the plot, Bash?"

"Hold your tongue, sir-"

"I don't have to hold my tongue. You are not the king and you are not the dauphin. King Henry, how well do you know your son? Your pagan people?"

"Bash, anything you'd like to tell me?"

Silence.

"Bash, I'm waiting."

"There was a plot against Mary before. Because I interrupted their sacrifice and they thought Mary was close to me. But I already made a sacrifice for them. I killed people for them to stop it."

Catherine and the others had arrived, stopping their discussion.

"We'll be ready, Maurice. What ship are we going to use?"

"Your majesty, the Pope has given us use of his premiere ship. And the captain and his crew are waiting for us at the dock. We'll leave when you are ready."

"Very well. Good bye, Henry. And kill the bastards that murdered Francis." leaving a cold chill on Henry's body. Damn, that woman.

Eventually, it was only Henry and Maurice. Bash, once more, had to try his luck with Mary.

"Tell me, Maurice, or I'll cut you down now, in front of everyone."

"Your majesty, the assassin was pagan. Francis recognized him. He looked familiar, like the male version of the serving girl you fired for not sleeping with you, Francis said. Turns out, he was the twin brother of your serving girl. Know of anyone who's practicing paganism in your court? I suggest you weed them out, starting with your beloved son. And his mother."

"Maurice, we're all ready. Let's go!" Catherine called out from her carriage.

"Good luck, your majesty. You will certainly need it."

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"Mary-"

"Stop, Bash. My decision is final. I will not marry you. Now let go of my arm or I'll cut you with Francis' knife."

Bash looked at the glint of the hunting knife Mary was wielding and let go.

"Good bye, Bash. Have a happy life without me."

And the carriages left one by one.

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"All aboard!"

"We're really leaving France, Mother! Look!" Charles commented as the dock was becoming smaller to their eyes.

"Yes, we are. We're going on an adventure! To Rome!" Catherine being as gleeful as she can.

Nostradamus was also with them, but he had a cut on his left cheek. Mary slashed him with Francis' knife once she saw him. Mary wanted to go for the jugular but he evaded. Only his cheek didn't escape Mary's wrath. And Mary is now in confinement to her room with her three ladies as they sailed, away from Nostradamus. Lola met them at the docks, getting as much knowledge on the Pope, Rome and providing stocks.

"Your majesty, Francis-"

"Not now. Until we are away from people." And all Nostradamus could do was nod. The future was grim before, its grimmer now.

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"Mary, you got to eat something." Lola tried to get Mary to eat. Greer and Kenna were unsuccessful and left the two to go up to the main deck along with everyone.

"Mary, please eat something. Or I'll have to force this down your throat." pertaining to the soup the chef sent.

"He's dead, Lola. Why is Francis dead? Nostradamus said he'll be safe away from me. He'll live a long life. Why is he dead?" Mary mumbled into her hands, folding into herself, as if cocooning herself. At least, she wasn't nibbling on her nails again. Instead, a continuous flow of tears are leaking from her red eyes.

"Mary-"

"Was I wrong, Lola? Did I make mistake? Why did I believe in superstition? Why didn't I believe in Francis? Didn't I love him? Why didn't I believe in our love? Francis did. He believed in our love. He believed in me. I'm a bad person, am I? That's why God is punishing me and took away my Francis."

"You know, Francis promised me. When we get married, he'll be there for me. Be there to argue with me, pressure me, be with me, he'll love me until the day I die. But he's dead. Do you think, he's still loving me even in his death? I know I love him still. And I will love him even if I die."

"I'm sure Francis is still loving you, Mary. And he wouldn't want to see you like this. Come, let's eat." urging Mary again to eat.

She sat up and took the soup Lola gave her, earning a relieve smile from her friend.

"You've been a wonderful friend, Lola. All of you, Greer, Kenna, Aylee." Drinking the soup, "You know, Francis is a bladesmith."

Lola gave her the side-eye. Mary laughed.

"Yes, Francis has a skill, not fit for a king. He makes all kinds of knives, swords. He's quite good at it. Or he tries to. He has made five swords and each one of them has a curved tip. I laughed at them. A sword that curves? He said, he said, I mocked him then and he attacked me with tickles." Mary giggles. "He's got really good hands, you know. Smooth hands, and he tries to roughen them up through making swords. But to me, they are still the most soothing hands I have ever touched."

"I love him. I love Francis. I love his hands. The way he touches me. The way he seems to know where to touch and I melt into him. I love it when he runs fingers through my hair, my skin, and his thumb likes to brush against my hand, even when we're dancing. And he tickles me, tickles me but I tickle him back too. I know he's ticklish on his sides. He's also ticklish on his knees and feet. And he likes me tickling his chin, against his beard."

Mary eyes sparkled. "The first time I tickled his chin, he purred. Like a cat." She giggles at the memory.

They had just went through a marathon of love-making, and we're quite exhausted. Mary turned into his side, ready to sleep, curling against him, her head and right hand on his chest. And Francis was murmuring in French, distracting her from sleeping. She got annoyed and tried to put her hand against his mouth, when she hit his chin and proceeded to swipe her fingers against his beard. Instantly, Francis purred. She did it again, and this time, Francis let out a prolonged moan.

Mary lifted her head and look at Francis while tickling his bearded chin, Francis purred and his eyes rolled back as if in contentment. And it was so adorable that Mary proceeded to ravish him. It was the first time she went down on him and rode him to their mutual satisfaction.

"And his kisses. He kisses me and he lingers for a bit. Like he's not done kissing me and he doesn't want to be done kissing me. I wish we don't need air so we could go on kissing forever. And he always think of ways and chances to kiss me. Why that one day, he makes up an entire story about his lips being hurt and my kiss will make them better. As if, I'd fall for that. But I did anyway." Mary and Lola laughed. "I love kissing him."

"Lola, I love him so much. What am I to do without him? He can't be dead. Francis can't be dead. I'd know, right? I love him so I would know if he's dead. But I don't feel that in my heart. I don't feel that he's gone from this earth. He's not dead, is he?" A fresh batch of tears again.

"He's not dead. I refused to believe it. I refused." Lola envelops Mary in her arms, letting her friend cry against her shoulder.

If only, miracles exist.

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Sometime later, Mary fell asleep against Lola. Carefully, she re-arranged Mary on her back to sleep on the bed.

"Francis." Mary murmured. Lola smiled sadly. Her friend will now only get to see and touch her beloved through dreams. Just like her.

"Sweet dreams, Mary." and she sat in her chair on the corner, doing her patchwork.

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"Francis!" Hugging him for all his worth. She missed him so much.

"Hello, my sweet Mary!" and they kissed sweetly, unhurriedly.

For forever was in their grasp.

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* * *

Yeah, that's it.


End file.
